


Testify

by inkandchocolate



Category: Angel: the Series, Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-19
Updated: 2010-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:08:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandchocolate/pseuds/inkandchocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something in common, can I get a hallelujah?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Testify

**Author's Note:**

> Icon ficlet for sparky77 and llaras, based on this icon:  
> http://obsessedmuch.net/biblioteque/testify.jpg

Bear Cove, California  
3:44 am

 

The light outside the hotel room flickers pinkly against the glass where the curtains don't quite close. The room smells like musty carpet, pine cleaner and smoke despite the request for a non-smoking room. It also smells like sex at the moment, thanks to the efforts of the two men who stretch out on the bed.

Dean's body covers the length of the mattress from the thin pillow under his head to the foot of the bed where the covers are a tangled heap, pushed away from sweaty skin. "Vampires," he mutters absently as he turns his head to look at the man who lays facedown beside him. "No shit."

Lindsey picks his head up from the pillow and summons the energy to push the hair away from his face. It's gotten long again and he can't be bothered to get it cut. He doesn't mind so much; Dean seems to like getting his fingers wrapped around it.

Among other things.

"No shit. You tellin' me all the time you spent with your dad, you never found a fuckin' vampire?" Lindsey asks lazily. "What kinda demon hunters are you? Can't swing a dead cat without hittin' a goddamn vampire."

"Swing a dead cat. That's…wow, that's homey. And quite the visual." Dean's smirk and raised eyebrow are becoming familiar expressions to Lindsey. "I guess we must be naturally repellent. Must have a high level of the holy in us or something."

Lindsey blinks and then laughs, rolling onto his back and letting one hand fall on his belly. He's sweaty everywhere but it's not unpleasant. Neither is the feel of Dean leaning over him, his hand on Lindsey's bicep and then wrapped around his wrist, neatly covering the scar there as he pins Lindsey's hand to the bed. Lindsey stares up at him, blue eyes dark, body painted rose and then silver as the light blinks on and off outside.

"Oh yeah. Pious was exactly the word I was thinkin' of when you pushed me against the wall behind the bar," he says mildly. He licks his bottom lip and grins when Dean leans down to do the same, his tongue a slick muscle in Lindsey's mouth.

"Made you see God," Dean murmurs against Lindsey's mouth, fingers tightening on Lindsey's wrist as he shifts his weight and slides on top of him. One knee nestles between Lindsey's and his cock nudges the hardness that presses against Dean's belly. "Several times."

Lindsey shrugs, brings his free hand up to squeeze the back of Dean's neck lightly. "Heard you testify a bit yourself."

"Seemed like the right thing to do at the time." Dean arches his back a little, rocks his hips as Lindsey's fingers press and stroke against his neck, rubbing at the soft line of blonde hair. "Polite, I mean. Keeping you company in the whole 'oh God' thing."

"Right. Because you're such a nice boy." Lindsey pulls him down abruptly. Sucks at the full bottom lip, nips there and feels the answering throb in Dean's cock. His hips press up, shift so the friction is just in the right place and Dean groans against his mouth. "Hallelujah," Lindsey murmurs with a slow smile.

Dean rubs his face against Lindsey's tongue flickering into his ear, hips moving in earnest now. The sweat is all they need to keep things good and hot and slippery, and each time Lindsey arches up, there's a faint groan from both of them. It would be easier to have someone reach down and grab hold, but neither of them wants to interrupt the rhythm they've made, and working towards that climax is just sweet enough to draw it out. It'll happen sure enough, that's never in doubt, and those sharp spikes of almost-too-much that Lindsey keeps creating with his bucking hips come closer together. The bed creaks, the mattress bumps against the wall in an increasingly quick tempo, and soon it's Lindsey pushing up on every stroke. By then, Dean's fingers have closed around his wrist hard enough to leave bruises and Lindsey's hand is clamped on Dean's shoulder, his thumb digging in below his collarbone, a dimple in the perfect line of muscle and bone.

Dean comes first, a choked groan coming between his heavy breaths. The heat spreads between them, thick and slippery over their bellies, and a moment later Lindsey joins him and adds to the mess. His voice is lower, rougher, and then there's nothing but the sound of them both panting. After a bit, Dean lifts his head, his mouth swollen as he grins.

"Amen," he says and they both laugh.


End file.
